


put the load right on me

by LouisTomlinson_Styles



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Snore, basically harry and louis are going to fuck a lot, basically harry and louis have the cutest meet cute ever, believe me the smut will come later, but there will also be a plot, but they understand soon enough just wait, bye, debating writing eleanor/perrie smut, expect many chapters, frequent updates maybe, i know sorry, niall and liam are rly confused, ok, or i promise i solemnly swear this will not be a WIP left forever in the abyss of unfinished works, poly!zayn, so yw, tell me ur thoughts on that one, this is in the works to be a smutty piece of art, title from The Weight by The Band, zayn is polyamorous
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-20 16:02:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3656439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LouisTomlinson_Styles/pseuds/LouisTomlinson_Styles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When they meet, they already have a t-shirt and bottle blond best friends in common. All Harry knows is he did not plan on meeting his soulmate at a club.</p><p>When Liam meets Zayn, his mouth goes dry. His whole being gives off an ethereal light and Liam wants. He wants bad. So he takes. When Niall meets Zayn, his dick is very interested. Which is definitely new, because Niall was essentially the Token Straight in his group of friends. Zayn's polyamory ends up working out for everyone.</p><p>When Eleanor meets Perrie - well, who knows what they were even like. They've been together for the dawn of time, haven't they?</p><p>They end up being best friends.</p><p>Or so they thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	put the load right on me

"Harry! Come and look at this one!" Niall's voice carried over from a few racks down, where he was clutching a shirt and giggling, red faced, like somewhat of an Irish madman.

Harry mentally bookmarked the sweater he was currently examining (red, itchy, possibly Danny Devito embroidered across the front, possibly Katy Perry) and made his way over to where Niall was, how you say, losing his fucking mind. He was holding up a white t-shirt like a proud mother and his whole face was scrunching up from how hard he was laughing.

"Well. Let's see it then." Harry encouraged, curiosity multiplying as Niall actually doubled over in laughter. Niall threw the shirt to Harry and supported his upper body by putting his pale hands on his knees as he wheezed from laughing so hard. It was a plain white t-shirt, except screen printed on it was '3th Annual Tomlinson-Malik Reunion' as well as three leprechaun cartoons - except, no, upon further consideration it was three faces (most likely from the Tomlinson-Malik family) photoshopped on the bodies. "Thirth!" was all Harry could manage before he was lost in laughter as well. Though it must have been quite a sight to see, the Goodwill employees were more than used to it by now.

Niall and Harry had a game. On the first Thursday of every month, they went to Goodwill together and tried to find the most ridiculous, hilarious, or hideous item of clothing. The game was - the other had to buy the awful thing, then wear it the next night at the club or bar or wherever they ended up going. No changing, no explaining to anyone why they were wearing it, and if they went home with anyone wearing the hideous garment they didn't have to do dishes for a week. Neither of them had actually ended up going home with anyone, though, and they'd been playing the game since their third month of uni (they were juniors now).

"This is your outfit for tomorrow night, mate!" Niall said finally.

"Fine, but just wait until you see the awful jumper I found. There's a face stitched into the front."

***

They wound up at a club the next night. Liam couldn't go, had a date with some guy he met (Zach, was it?) that he couldn't postpone because, quote, "He's the. Most. Gorgeous. Creature. I've ever seen. Ever." Which, knowing Liam, the guy could be a low 6 or a high 10. Or anywhere in between there. He was very generous.

They'd never been to the club and Harry and Niall looked like hopeless fools - Niall adorned in the hideous sweateer/shrine to... whoever, and Harry in his 3th Annual Tomlinson-Malik Reunion tee. At least he got white shirt with short sleeves, Niall was likely to overheat.

"Dare you to go talk to the fit bloke sipping his fruity drink at the bar." Niall challenged, a few shots and half a beer into their night. 

"I accept your dare. But only because his arse is something I wouldn't mind eating a three course meal off of."

"Cute." Niall muttered, before swigging his beer and stumbling onto the dancefloor, swaying to the song that shook the building.

Harry knew it was no use to actually put his moves on anyone with leprechauns on his shirt, so he decided to go for a simple, "Can I buy you a drink?" Since the guy already had a drink, Harry was basically setting himself up for failure. And in all honestly he wasn't actually sure he could trust himself with an ass like that.

The man had a pretty face, and his hair was mussed a bit and his cheeks were covered in a light dusting of stubble. Harry wanted. He wanted bad. Of course the night fate threw him into the crosshairs of the most attractive guy in England he was wearing a fucking shirt that said 3th Annual Tomlinson-Malik Reunion on it. 

To Harry's immense surprise (and probably because he was crossing his arms in front of the majority of the embarrassment on his chest) the man smiled a bit shyly and nodded.

"What'll you have, then?" Harry smiled, leaning in so he could hear the man's response over the loud bass. 

"Corona!" the guy all but screamed as the speakers (as well as half the people in the building) belted out the chorus of Chandelier. 

Harry waved down the bartender and communicated his order with many arm movements and accentuated syllables. He was no stranger to bar speak, and the interaction was relatively brief. When he turned back to the pretty boy with the nice ass, he forgot his guard was supposed to be up. The guy took one look at Harry's shirt and seemed to have an out of body experience. First he looked curious, then shocked, then confused. Then, he burst out laughing, much to Harry's surprise. "Come here for a second!" the man yelled in his ear, grabbing him by the hand and leading him to the door of the club.

Was Harry being ejected from the club for his shirt? Was there a fashion quota he wasn't reaching? Was this guy going to punch him in the face for even trying to hit on him wearing a shirt like that? What was his fate? 

The man led him out of the main club, down a set of stairs and into the coatroom where a very bored looking girl with red hair was texting someone.

"That. Your shirt." the guy was laughing. This was a nightmare. The rules of the Ugly Outfit Game clearly stated that Harry couldn't even explain why he was wearing it. Earth is a cruel home.

"What about my shirt?" Harry said, a bit defensively. It wasn't that outrageous, certainly not outrageous enough to need a quiet room to laugh at properly.

"No, it's just..." the guy was certainly overreacting to the shirt, Harry thought. He'd never been laughed at this much for a Goodwill cop, and this guy was so pretty. Harry's pride hurt a little bit. Then, the guy's finger was on his chest, "That's my mum. That's my step dad. That's my fucking grand dad." He poked each leprechaun, eyes crinkling and cheeks turning pink.

The gears in Harry's head whirred. He'd actually run into a guy from the Tomlinson-Malik family? Was this guy fucking with him? Was he dreaming? What was even going on in his life?

"Wh-what?"

"That's. Did you buy that at Goodwill?" he asked, smiling ear to ear and giggling like a school girl.

"Um. Yeah, I did. I thought it was so funny, cus. Like. Thirth."

"Mate. I'm 99% sure that you're wearing my t-shirt right now. Like, let me see the tag." Harry hesitated at first, then turned around and let the man look at the tag. "Yep. Even has my name written on the tag in marker."

"You're Lou bear?" Harry asked, turning to face the man, Lou bear, smirking.

"My mum wrote that. I'm Louis. Louis Tomlinson - and that is my t-shirt."

"I'm Harry. Harry Styles. And I believe, actually, Louis Tomlinson, that it is my t-shirt.

"I mean, I guess I can't argue with that. But it was mine, like, originally. I gave it to Goodwill a couple weeks ago because it was too stretched out to wear. Also because it says thirth on it."

"This is such a coincidence." Harry chuckled, hiding his shit eating grin behind his hand. He was wearing the hottest guy at the bar's clothes and they hadn't even fucked yet. Things were looking up. Harry didn't really think it was a coincidence, though, the word he was looking for was fate. Definitely fate.

"I know!" they stood there for a few moments, just giggling at each other, before Louis said, "Hey, you wanna dance?"

"Yeah. I'd like that, I think." they made their way back to the dancefloor together, and Harry aggressively pretended he didn't know the blond guy shaking his ass on the bar and screaming the lyrics to Uptown Funk with two scantily clad girls, one with bleach blond hair cut to just past her shoulders and the other with long brown waves down her back.

"Jesus, my friends are embarrassing." Louis shouted to Harry over the boom of the bass.

"You know Niall?" Harry asked, suddenly very confused.

"Who?"

Harry pointed to his blond friend who was doing some sort of hokey-pokey break dancing while the girls danced together in a mock-romantic way. "Oh, not him, the girls!" Louis explained, pointing at them, "Weirdo lesbian film makers." he mock-whispered, and Harry would probably assume Louis was a giant dick if his eyes weren't so fond.

Harry wanted to write a sonnet about how fateful their meeting was, how Louis' eyes were a thousand starry nights and his skin was a beach that he wanted to leave marks all over like footprints in the sand and his cheeks were roses midbloom thanks to alcohol (and Harry wants to say he has something to do with it, too) and his body was a continent not yet explored by any worthy man - a continent he wanted to conquer in the most romantic way possible. Instead, he grabbed Louis' hips and started to dance with him in time to the music, sweat dripping down his back and his groin responding to the warmth the friction between their bodies created. 

They danced and danced, music bumping around their little bubble. Stranger's elbows occasionally landing in their ribs, bumping them around like a package in a mail truck, they stayed in sync. Song after song, rhythm amping up then toning down - they kept pace. Harry was gathering up the courage to ask Louis if he wanted to get out of there.

Then, there was a crash behind them. The music cut off and the house lights went up. Harry and Louis spun around to see the blond girl, Louis' friend, on the floor and her brown haired counterpart kneeling over her, while Niall was pushing some aloof looking guy with big hair. Louis ran from Harry to the scene and Harry followed close behind, joining Niall's side and sizing up the man in front of him. They could definitely take him.

"What happened?" he asked, standing just an inch behind Niall.

"That guy threw my fucking girlfriend off the bar!" the brown haired girl screeched from where she was rubbing at the blond girl's cheeks.

"Well why the fuck did you do that?" Harry asked, raising his voice. The music was still off and all eyes were on them now.

"Dykes are fucked up, ma-" the guy didn't even get his sentence out before Harry's fist made contact with his jaw. The man went down with just the one swing, curling up on the floor and cradling his jaw like an infant.

"Let's get out of here." Harry said to Niall, before going to where the poor girl was crying on the floor over her unconscious girlfriend. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I can carry her out of here if that's alright? Get her to some fresh air?" he offered, knowing the girl couldn't be heavier than Niall, who he'd lugged home a fair share of times.

"Yes, yes, thank you." she nodded, worried tears falling down her face.

Harry scooped up the girl and carried her out of the room, Niall and Louis' sandwiching the brunette with comforting hands and soothing shoulder rubs a few feet behind him. The music turned back on once they were out of the room and into coat check. Harry carried her outside and sat her down gently on a bench.

"I already called an ambulance." the brunette announced, taking a seat next to her girlfriend and letting her blond head roll onto her shoulder.

"Okay, love, she'll be okay. Perrie's always all right, innit?" Louis reassured, kneeling in front of the distraught brunette.

"I guess. I guess." she said, not looking so sure.

A few minutes later, the ambulance appeared, and the paramedics loaded Perrie onto a stretcher. The brunette followed her, and Louis went to get on, too, but the paramedic stopped him with a hand to his chest. "Only one extra is allowed in the vehicle, sir."

"I'll drive you to the hospital." Harry offered. The situation had sobered him up, on top of the fact that he hadn't had that much to drink to begin with, so he figured he could drive.

"Okay, thank you so much." Louis nodded. "Bye, Eleanor!" he called as they shut the doors of the ambulance. "I'll be there as soon as I can!" Then they drove off, sirens blaring.

"Let's go then, shall we?" The three boys left, walking uphill on the sidewalk, and hurried to the parking garage where Harry's car was, the silence between them louder than anything they could be saying.

**Author's Note:**

> This will get interesting I swear.


End file.
